#TBT

So this is actually a bit that I had written quite a while ago, last summer if I'm not mistaken. I found it on my phone while deleting old notes and decided I liked the thought so I would post it. Looking back over old writings is always odd because even if it's a day later you realize 24 hours can have such a change on your outlook. It's also interesting seeing how you felt about certain issues and how now it differs. Anyway this is my old writing, feel free to judge as I did, but do not hate.

You know how you sometimes have those days where you feel your absolute worst? When someone left a chip bag full of crumbs in the cupboard or you hit your head getting out of bed or you lock yourself out of the house? Well, we've all had those days, but it seems those are the days when life can be a complete (for refusal of a stronger word) bully! Today seemed like one of those days. It was just plain terrible and the worst part was that I had nothing to blame it on. I should have been fine; any normal person would have been. Oh shoot! There's my problem -- normality. Haha it's overrated anyways . . .

My day was nothing to complain about, just shy of perfect with sunny summer weather, sleeping in and sisters, however something wasn't right and like I said I don't know why. For some reason I just felt like absolute crap! Life had changed the bowl of cherries into a bowel of berries and it was disgusting! Then Life had the audacity to try and shove more in my face like here take this! I went to the store with my girls and we were getting ice cream (a reasonable necessity when you're feeling down) when sure enough walking down one of the freezer aisles toward me was a beautiful specimen of a human being. I am one who believes it is just rude to be that beautiful! But there he goes looking all fine and perfect. I know some of you are pry like,"man that's annoying because he pry knew he was all good looking too, huh?" But no! That's just it- he acted as if he had no idea why I was gazing at him (probably with my moth gaped open and eyes glazed over). Lolz

Also, don't you go thinking that it was just me feeling insecure and depressed like, "oh, she would think any guy that walked past was better looking then her." NO! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! Like he was for real so darn beautiful, like angelic, Grecian god beautiful - I'm pretty sure there are statues made of him in the Pantheon! You'd have to be alien to not think he was perfect.

So at first I was mad -- blazing, roaring, spitting mad. Because I was having a bad day; how dare he be like that. Looking good and dressing nice and smiling a straight, white-teethed smile with sparkling eyes. Brown eyes. (Not like mine though, there were actually pretty brown.) Then I relized that "hey it was no big deal, just move on." Not everybody can be perfect because then we would all be the same -- BORING!

Moving on . . . I had just caught up with my mother who was checking out at the the cash registers when I decided to check out the magazine rack. I stepped forward and that's when I noticed the dude in front us!!! Mr. Perfect?!? How dare he show up again! I felt so angry with this guy, and I didn't even know who he was, but at the same time I couldn't stop gawking. I had seen him just a little while ago a yet there he was looking (if possible) even more attractive. He had dark brown, curly hair but not wild, unruly curls. Maybe it was the way he styled it - short and close to his head. Then he spoke to the cashier and that's when the magic happened. He started chatting in Spanish!?! I was like all "when did that happen?" like he just fluently talks in a romance language. I'm not sure if it's everyone or just me but if some person speaks more than just English they instantly become more awesome! I was so staring at this point and not even caring! Then he looked my way and smiled. At first I was flattered and then I was offended thinking he was amused at the amount of ice cream me and the girls were buying then I told my annoying self to piss off and just enjoy the beauty while it stood in front of me and that's just what I did.

I know this may have seemed stupid to read, and you don't even know why you read it at all or even chose to skip to the end and finish at all, but I did learn some lessons.

1.) God makes everyone beautiful - it may take a little longer to find someone's beauty but eventually if you get to know them well enough you will find it

2.) there's no time to waste hating those you don't even know; just get over yourself! Plus they don't even know you're mad at them so it's useless.

3.) enjoy the view. God didn't make people beautiful so no one would notice, tell them they look nice and move on, but no need to be a creep! (At this time in my life, I was pry a little creepy; don't follow my ways.)

and

4.) just be yourself.

I hope you've enjoyed my random throwback article. I am a writer and it's these little insignificant moments in life that later, when thought upon, become the big moments so cherish them and cherish life. The last thing I want to share is a thought I found on Pinterest by a Tumbler user (hence the weird username lolz) I found it so weird and amusing, but yet oddly inspiring and encouraging.

"Stop for just one Second.

Think about all the people you've had a crush on. All the people you've found attractive, but never said anything to. Every stranger you've temporarily fallen in love with on public transportation. All the people you've dreamt of and thought of in the early mornings.

And now take a moment to realize that you've been this person for so many people . . . and you have no idea."

-spookyphoque

xo
GreenGirl

I'm Baaaaaack

The winds of change are in the air. Big change. Is it scary? Totally. Does it make me nervous? Yes. Am I anxious to know the outcome? Of course. But does it excite me? HELL YA!

I love having some consistency in my life. I understand why having a routine is important. I'm a list person, and I like having priorities. I'll be the first to admit that I always follow the recipe, and I hate when people decide last minute to hang out or make plans. BUT there's a large part of me that loves change. No. I crave change. I can't stand being in the same place for a long time and I love changing up the furniture in a room or dramatically changing my style of clothing or hair.

Without change life gets stale and boring. It's the same thing every minute of every day. As much as I hate being spontaneous, I love being random!

So, these changing winds are blowing into my life, and I'm not totally sure what to think. I want to just talk to people and figure it out, but as of the beginning of the year I am currently bestfriendless. My pity party has ended but it's times like these that I wish we were still close. It's not him I miss necessarily, but what he represented (which in high school was just about everything). He was the consistency in my changing life, and now I have change and excitement, but no one to get that steadiness from. Oh well, to whoever is out there reading my weird little blog on the world wide web, stay tuned because this summer is bound to bring big change and adventure! :) <3

~GreenGirl

Me in all honesty:

I'm not skinny. I don't count calories. I'm a size 14/16 on a good day. I don't want to look like a supermodel. I love my curves and my boobs (though they are a struggle!) I don't want to be scrawny, and I sure as hell don't want to be something I'm not! But I do want change. I want to be able to walk up three flights of stairs without needing to catch my breath. I would love to lose a little belly fat so my pants don't make that awkward bulge. I want to be able to run long enough so I'm not embarrassed to talk about my exercise habits. I want to run during the day, but I'm self conscious of people seeing the big girl with the huge chest trying to run.

You see, I love my body, but I'm tired of using it as an excuse. "I love my body so I don't need change." "I love my body so why should I have to conform?" I finally figured it out! If I truly love my body then I will change because the way I am, though I'm not obese, is not the best I could be living. I want my body able to sleep well at night and wake up feeling refreshed. I want to feel comfortable with every inch of my body and not just my legs and butt.

So this is my promise to myself and to my body and to my God. I will live my life to honor my body. My body is a temple, and I will treat it as such. This is not to conform to society or peer pressure but rather to gain self acceptance.

Friend, it doesn't have to be New Year's to make a resolution. I challenge you today to promise yourself to be a better you tomorrow than you are today. Live your life so that when you look in the mirror each morning you can proudly nod your head and say, "Damn. That's a fine specimen of a human being. I'm surprised the aliens haven't abducted me yet." So live loud, live proud and live life to the absolute fullest.

Thanks to all my friends and family who have loved me and accepted me before I even fully accepted myself. Hugs, kisses, and lots of love. xoxoxo

-GreenGirl

Crazy Love

Some people say, "Being in love makes you do crazy things." This does not justify doing stupid things though.

I was attending an exercise class the other day and I was meeting some of the people. I introduced myself to a girl (who for this story will be called Luanne). Luanne was saying how she was trying to work out to feel better for her wedding. I congratulated her on her noteworthy goal and she told me that she already fit in her dress, but it was more about making her feel better about herself. I rightly figured that as any person planning to get married she would love to talk about it so as we continued with our light workout we spoke of her quickly approaching big day (about 2 weeks!)

Speaking with Luanne some more I asked her the basic college questions (we were taking an on-campus class). Luanne however told me that she was no longer in college. She had dropped out last spring due to finances (totally understandable!) She was planning on returning in the fall, but that summer she met a dude and started dating him. She said (not that I believe her) that they got to know each other really well super quickly and not too long later he proposed and she (obviously) said yes. I must have had a look of pure shock and slight judgment because she quickly stated "By the time we get married we'll have known each other longer than 6 months." As if that makes it better! Oh. Okay. That makes sense, I mean how dare you guys be together longer than that without getting hitched. Aye yai yai!

I'm not trying to be mean to her and say that her marriage won't work out or that they aren't meant for each other. I mean, hell, I barely know the girl and I've never even seen her fiancé. All I know is that if this is what falling head over heals is, if this is what it's like to be blinded by love, if this is what it's like to be crazy in love, leave me out. I will be crazy any day and I will love any day, but it's clear that they aren't meant to be together. PB&J, Mac & Cheese, Seth & Summer, but not Crazy & in Love.

-GreenGirl

Back in the Land of Undrinkable Tea and Incomprehensible Speaking

Oy! It's crazy! I thought I was ready to be back here, but apparently it isn't so. I know it's only been three weeks, but it seems like it's been so long!

My current problem is Spanish. :/ It was a huge problem for me last semester also and I tried blaming it on all kind of things and all kinds of people, but compiling didn't change anything so I decided to stop being so negative. So this semester I am changing my ways.

You see, I want to learn Spanish I truly do. Back home (on the best coast) you hear Spanish everywhere! My best friend in the whole wide world speaks Spanish, my brother's wife speaks Spanish, here I met a girl from Spain and dude from Mexico and another dude from Puerto Rico. I think it would be the coolest thing ever if I could learn to speak to them in their native language. I want to go back home and not just hear Spanish but be able to understand it and turn around and say something back! :) So you see, I really do have the desire to learn.

The other night I went to a ULA (University Language Association) meeting on campus and it was so cool! The whole thing was done in Spanish and I had the best time! I'm hoping that by this summer (okay, maybe the end of the summer . . .) I will be able to have a light conversation with someone. As long as they go slow!

So I have rededicated myself to learning Spanish. I say random words and phrases in spanish around the room. "Estoy muy cansada." "en la ventana" "mi silla y pupitre" it must sound so funny mixed in with my English, but I figure if i start using the vocabulary in every day life then I won't be so shy to use it in public when I get to that point. And no doubt about it, that point will come because this girl *points emphatically at self* is going to learn Spanish! :D

~GreenGirl

Sing to Me Country!

I know I am from California. How can I ever forget? It's the best state ever, and I love it! BUT! I have a confession to make; I'm not proud of it (being a California kid), but I can't help it! I have learned to love country music. I mean, I guess it was inevitable going to college in the south, but still, at first I thought I would fit right in because I was always the odd one out back home because I liked country music (aka Taylor Swift and Carrie Underwood). I didn't realize that it gets so much worse/better than that (depending on your view). At first I wasn't sure what to think. It was weird-no lie! They sang about the most random things! However, it soon started to grow on me. I am now a firm believer that a weird southern twang/drawl can only sound good singing a country song. Now, I like the random things they sing about; it makes the song seem more real. Because they choose specific random words it makes it seem more personal and like they picked out each word carefully, which reminds me of poetry. Hmmm. . . Sorry, I just had a great [country] song come on and play softly in my ears. That's another thing. Country music is feel good music which I love! Music should make you feel good. Whether your super sad or super happy you can listen to country music and it's like a good friend. It will comfort you and wrap you in a big southern hug. :) I think to enjoy country music the most you have to experience it the way they sing about it. Riding around in your pickup truck with the windows open and breeze on your face. This is what I did last year with my roommate and is what probably started this weird love affair I have with country music. I don't know. I have a feeling it's something about being in the south though. Like I cannot imagine going back home for Christmas break and jamming to my country playlist that I've since listened to while back at college. You know what I mean though? Like country music is great while you're actually in the country because you can relate to everything they're singing about, but if I'm driving down the highway in California I don't know if it would feel the same. Anyway, now you know my confession. Though I'm not apologizing for it. I like country music; not nearly as much as the southern sweet talking girl next door but enough. I understand if you don't like it; heck I know I didn't until I was immersed in the country culture for a year. All I ask is that if you ever find yourself stranded in the south with some person talking so strangely you have no frickin' idea what they're saying then just turn on the radio and give country music a chance. Music is a universal language so maybe country music is your link to the south.

P.S.
If you find yourself falling in love with it like an unexpected crush then you're welcome! HAHA! ;-)

xoxoxo
-GreenGirl

Give me forgiveness for not giving blood.

This is the second time it's happened, once last semester and now this week.

Everyone is donating blood. The vans are parked on front campus and students line up to give their blood and get a T-shirt. I can't. I want to, but I can't. I know I'm not the only one, but I'm pretty sure I am the only one without a valid excuse. Some were born in another country; some don't weigh enough; some have low iron or insulin and some have had a sickness or disease so they cannot partake. Not me. I am totally healthy, a little overweight and was born in the awesome USA, but yet I cannot give blood. It's not that I don't try, but I can never make it onto the vans. The same thing happened twice.  I get saddened and guilty seeing everyone wearing their T-shirts like it's their trophy proudly earned and bandages on their arms like it covers their battle wound received by saving lives.

My conscious tells me I need to give blood so I walk to the vans from my dorm. The walk is sobering as I think over my decision and make sure I want to do this. I realize it's a good cause so I keep on. I continue until I am 15 feet from the vans, lines of people and busy workers. I can't move any more. I just stand there frozen in fear. I don't know what goes on in the van. I don't know the process and if I'm honest with myself I don't want to know! I have a fear of blood and needles. They say it isn't uncommon, but it seems as if I am the only one on campus who is allowing it to get in the way of giving blood.

Oh no! A worker just spotted me. He tilts his head in my direction and walks over. "Hey you going to get in line?" he asks. "Um, ya, maybe." I manage to get out through my dry mouth. "Alright, well, the line's moving down so now is a good time." He replies with a small smile before turning around to walk away. As soon as he's far enough away and I know he's not looking I scram. I am so embarrassed! He caught me and I didn't even have the guts to tell him that I wish I could, but I was scared spitless!

Why does this happen to me? I get so mad! Why do I have to be a coward?

There was a girl I knew last year, who I found out could relate to me! She didn't like needles and blood either, and it felt great knowing that I wasn't the only not giving, but then she abandoned me! She ended up being talked into giving blood by a friend and said it was no big deal. Now she is one of the ones I try to avoid because she is the biggest pain trying to guilt me into giving (like I don't guilt myself enough)! It's not the pain I'm afraid of; it's my imagination. I can't get over my brain giving me super violent images of needles and blood and all that could go wrong and me fainting and every other hypothetical situation! I know you should just ignore all the "what ifs" but maybe there's good reason for them. I honestly don't know.

I feel like I'm just being so selfish, but at the same time I know that's not the reason I'm not giving. I want to save lives! I want to be a hero! I want to be able to say I gave blood and proudly wear the T-shirt everyone else wears, but I can't. I don't say that lightly. I know many may say "Yes, she can; she just chooses not to; she won't." But I seriously don't know if I will ever be able to make it closer than 15 feet in front of the van. This fact saddens me and makes me angry, but I have a fear. Yes, I may be dramatic and yes I may very well be overreacting, but that doesn't make it any less real.

So I am sorry. If I offend you, if I make you angry, if you need blood some day and I'm your type, but I didn't give any then I truly am sorry. But for now when I cannot give blood, forgive me. I hope someday this changes; I hope to give blood, but until then please do not have ought against me. Don’t judge; instead look into your soul to the kid you used to be. The one dreadfully afraid to go to the doctor’s to get your shots and remember how squeamish your stomach was and how bad you wanted to run away. How you wanted to kick the doctor and scream at the top of your lungs and cry. This is how I feel every time I stand in front of those white vans.